


The Duel

by kassandra_divina_trevelyan



Series: The Andromeda Rewrites [5]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon Compliant, Duelling, F/M, Sexual Tension, fight for power, high noon, relationships are tested, revelations and truth come to light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 06:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassandra_divina_trevelyan/pseuds/kassandra_divina_trevelyan
Summary: After their spontaneous kiss, Reyes and Esme are steadily falling for each other. Things seem to be turning around for the Pathfinder and her rugged, charming smuggler. However, secrets are dredged to light when the fighting between Sloane and the Charlatan comes to a head with an ultimatum issued and the gauntlet thrown. Can Esme's newfound relationship with Reyes survive when some lies become known? Or will the quest for Kadara's power lose Reyes the one person who he cares about more than himself?(Mostly canon-compliant with little divergences for more Reyes content)





	The Duel

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @queen-among-writers  
Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Y9QFtVWHb0t6tjeCfkMLJ

The Duel

It was supposed to be Esme’s day off since the crew docked in Kadara after a couple of weeks away, and the Pathfinder planned on seeing Reyes again. She even dressed for the occasion in a jumpsuit whose neckline plunged low and flattered her form with a flared out, mini cape. However, those plans were dashed when the Tempest received a transmission from Sloane. She moved through the Kadaran marketplace with a steeled glare, knowing that all eyes were on her. She marched up to the Outcast Headquarters with annoyance written all over her face. She received a cryptic and demanding message from Sloane that requested her presence at once. Part of her seriously considered ignoring the message for a couple of days, but she was having one of her responsible moments and figured seeing what Sloane wanted would be better to handle earlier. Entering the HQ, Esme expected to encounter Outcast guards at their posts or milling about in the hallways. But, to Esme’s surprise, the halls were empty and eerily silent. That set off several warning sirens in her mind and Esme wished she came down with her pistol like she debated earlier on the Tempest. The emptiness screamed trap and Esme cursed not trusting herself. She strode forward and reached the automated double doors that led to Sloane. Pulling out her omni-tool, Esme gave SAM the command to bypass the doors.

The doors whooshed open and revealed a nearly empty room, except for Sloane sitting in her makeshift throne. The heel of Esme’s boot clicked against the tile flooring as she approached Sloane, who watched her blankly. She expected a glare or some reaction as opposed to the pile of nothing from Kadara’s leader. Esme crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight between her feet unnerved for a moment. She settled down and cleared her throat.

“Where is everybody?” Esme questioned, and Sloane narrowed her eyes at Ryder when she perceived to be veritable mockery in her voice. Her blood boiled; today was not the day to push her buttons and Esme loved pushing buttons with her.

“I told them all to get out of my sight,” Sloane growled brusquely, slouching in her chair and looking downright miserable. Esme surveyed the sight of an isolated woman, and she nearly clicked her tongue, mockingly pointing out the touchiness of Sloane’s response.

“Take it someone pissed you off.” Esme mused aloud while she tried her best to keep from showing her amusement about the whole situation. Seeing the empty room with only Sloane and her in it, Esme knew that Sloane felt somewhat on edge. She held back demanding Sloane cut to the chase and explain the cryptic message after she noticed a flicker of lividity in Sloane’s multi-colored eyes. Sloane’s fingers gripped into the arm of her chair roughly and she bared her teeth in a snarl.

“The Charlatan used my own people to beat up Kaetus. He’s alive—barely.” Sloane revealed tensely and huffed, leaning back in her seat. Sloane appeared genuinely distraught by the turn of events. Esme’s lips pursed into a thin line and she raised her brow. From her interactions with him, Kaetus acted cautiously around her. Still, Esme was privy to some of his less admirable qualities. She read his memo to the Outcasts; such an assault was likely to occur at some point from the number of enemies he and Sloane made. More than anything, Esme wondered if Sloane recognized the walls were closing in on her and her little empire over Kadara… its days were numbered.

“The Charlatan’s using Kaetus to put you on edge… and by the looks of things, I would say it’s working as intended.” Esme declared matter-of-factly with no audible amusement taken at Sloane’s dissatisfaction from what the exile could hear. By the way Sloane tensed up, Esme half expected Sloane to launch herself at her or threaten her in some manner. She might be holding herself together for the moment. Still, Sloane was a ticking time bomb with a rapidly decreasing countdown clock. She would explode one of these days; sooner rather than later from how the tide of the war shifted in favor of the Collective.

“I know that.” Sloane sharply hissed at the Pathfinder, but she knew that Esme was right. The Charlatan wanted her to feel afraid by isolating her and turning her own men against her. As much as it pained her to admit it, Sloane needed Esme’s help. Sloane sighed, “I didn’t call you here for a pity party.”

“Then why did you call me here?” Esme inquired while she narrowed her eyes at Sloane suspiciously. Now they were getting to the vital information that Esme wanted. Since her arrival in Kadara, her interactions with Sloane have been nothing short of adversarial in nature. Sloane wanted to be rid of the Pathfinder to keep her from threatening her monopoly of authority in Kadara. Now she suddenly wanted Esme around? That reeked of something shady, which wasn’t too off-brand for someone like Sloane.

“The Charlatan left a note on Kaetus’ body. He wants to settle things between us. The meeting spot is in Draullir.” Sloane informed, and that particular tidbit piqued Esme’s interest in the whole debacle. Revealing their identity to anyone seemed counterintuitive to the Charlatan’s previous actions in the war for Kadara Port. More importantly, Sloane said ‘he’ and not ‘they,’ which meant that she speculated or knew the Charlatan was a male. 

“He? How do you know it’s a he?” Esme questioned and Sloane seemed to dodge her inquiry with pointed silence. Esme knew when she was being stonewalled and figured her unofficial interrogation would be better spent working another angle. She raised her brow at Sloane’s eagerness to accept this offer and missing the obvious clues that it was an ambush of sorts. “It could be a trap.”

“You think? I can’t trust my own people, but you—you’re an outsider.” Sloane mused and her eyes settled on Esme with a knowing look. Esme knew exactly what Sloane implied and she tempered back the urge to scoff. Of course, Sloane wasn’t acting her usual egocentric self because she needed Esme’s help. 

“So, you want me to take your side in the conflict,” Esme concluded and awaited Sloane’s confirmation or denial of her theorized involvement, which she received through the nearly imperceptible nod of Sloane’s head. How amusing that Sloane was crawling to her for protection when she shunned her Nexus connections beforehand. Esme shrugged noncommittally, “Like you said, I’m an outsider. Not sure I want to get involved.”

“If you want an Initiative presence on Kadara, you’ll be there.” Sloane aggressively declared and Esme wanted to question if that was a threat. The two women glared at each other spitefully until Sloane glanced down at her omni-tool. She fiddled with the holographic screen for a second before she rose from her chair. Esme’s omni-tool chimed with a set of navpoints that she guessed was the location where Sloane and the Charlatan were slated to meet. Without another word, Sloane marched toward the door and passed Esme by, her actions sending a clear message. However, Esme was never one to comply with a threat like that. 

_“Be careful, Sloane,”_ Esme thought as she watched Sloane exit the room and leave her in the emptiness to ponder helping her. _“If I hold the fate of this exchange in my hands, I better see a damn good reason. The fact still remains that the Charlatan’s motives remain a mystery to me. He… They might be Kadara’s new ruler.”_

_“Pathfinder, Sloane seems insistent that you side with her, but I can tell that you don’t want to,”_ SAM stated over their private channel and Esme managed a chuckle at how perceptive her AI was. She would have to blame her dad for strengthening their SAM beyond what other SAM implants could sense. 

“We have to go to this meeting. The Charlatan has their side of the equation and this might be my chance to figure out just what they desire out of this conflict.” Esme replied and SAM seemed content with her answer since there was a reasonable period of silence. That allowed Esme to consider and mull over her options. Although she and Sloane were far from allies, Esme would show to the meeting. The war’s end was on the horizon and she planned on working with whoever came out on top. Returning to the marketplace, Esme utilized a shortcut back to the docks and boarded the Tempest without stopping. Esme stalked back toward her quarters on the Tempest and her crew, hanging around the galley, appeared startled to see her back so soon. Esme gestured for Jaal and Cora to follow her into another room with a two-finger point directed toward her private quarters. Glancing at each other wordlessly, Jaal and Cora followed her and stepped inside Esme’s private quarters, the automatic door closing behind the three. 

“Ryder, what is it?” Cora questioned, concerned by the grimace Esme wore. Although the two started off with a rocky relationship with Cora’s dismay that Esme was named Alec’s successor to the Pathfinder position when Cora trained for it longer, they gradually moved past that to become friends. The two set aside their differences early on when Cora realized that Esme was suited for the role—better than she would have been.

“I received a message from Sloane earlier that demanded a meeting. Turns out that the Charlatan just maneuvered into the prime position to strike as he used Sloane’s own men to turn on Kaetus and beat him to the brink of death. He left a note behind that challenged Sloane to settle things. She is on her way to confront him in the badlands and she requested that I come along to back her up.” Esme explained to her closest companions on the Tempest and watched their eyes widen. They didn’t expect the Charlatan’s sudden promise to end the war either.

“What do you plan to do?” Jaal inquired with his intelligent, feline eyes settling on Esme; he could see her considering their options. Her eyes darted back and forth while staring out at the stars through her quarter’s windows.

“We’re going.” Esme decided and Cora nodded, preparing to suit up. Jaal and Cora left the room to suit up, leaving Esme to change into her clothing underneath her armor. Once she changed, she joined Jaal and Cora at the loadout station. They swiftly departed from the Tempest and immediately caught the lift down to the slums at the docks without venturing into town. The moment the lift touched down, Esme and her companions marched for the badlands where they could transport to a forward station close enough to the coordinates. When Esme and the others arrived at the station closest to the navpoint, she summoned the Nomad on the station console and vaulted into the driver’s seat. She gripped the wheel and waited for the others to get in before she drove off toward the brewing battle in her typical, reckless fashion. 

“Be ready for anything,” She advised to her companions as she picked up on the chime signaling she was close to her targeted location. Esme rolled up to the navpoint given by Sloane and she composed herself. It all ended today, one way or another. Esme, Jaal, and Cora exited the Nomad and they marched to the mouth of the cave where Sloane waited with her arms crossed. She didn’t give a victorious look because she knew Esme would show.

“Took your sweet time.” Sloane bitterly remarked, but she relented her comment when she found herself underneath Esme’s unamused glare. Rolling her eyes, Sloane crossed her arms over her chest and turned her face to the side. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yes, let’s.” Esme retorted brusquely, knowing she wanted to get this over with as well. She and Sloane were not on the same side by any stretch of the imagination, which they both understood. Esme was here for one thing and one thing only. Stepping into the cave, Esme found herself briefly plunged into darkness and she hoped that SAM’s capabilities would keep her safe until her eyes adjusted. Esme remained vigilant and walked between Sloane and her companions. After a few moments, the group stepped into the light and Esme felt some of the tension ease. Sloane marched ahead of Esme with a grim expression and hatred burning in her eyes like embers flying out of the fire. Esme exchanged glances with Cora and Jaal as Sloane led them deeper into the caves. Before Esme indulged Sloane’s request, she and her crew speculated the possibility that Sloane’s invitation was an underhanded trap in the making. Esme wouldn’t put the idea past Sloane as she gave her no reason to trust her the moment Esme set foot in Kadara. Still, she would avoid acting upon her suspicions until viable proof emerged.

While they walked through the cave, Esme waited for any sign of the elusive Charlatan. What she didn’t understand what angle they were playing at by revealing their identity to Sloane or what they sought from meeting her. Her eyes scoured the pockets of darkness alongside her companions while Sloane appeared focused on the path ahead. Eventually, Sloane and Esme and the others arrived at an outcropping of rocks where a stream of light filtered through the ceiling. Sloane stopped at the base of the rocks and Esme waited beside her, guessing that this is where they were to meet the Charlatan. Esme glanced down at her omni-tool when she sensed Sloane tense up beside her; they weren’t alone. 

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.” The familiar line is echoed by a voice Esme would know anywhere, causing her heartbeat to swiftly pick up and drum away in her ears. Her eyes darted to the cropping of rocks as Reyes emerged from the shadows, looking down at Sloane… and Esme. She wasn’t supposed to be there. He maintained a blank expression, not tipping Sloane off that he developed some attachment to the Pathfinder. The last thing he wanted was Esme to get stuck in the crossfire of his and Sloane’s war. 

“Reyes?” Esme questioned, tempering the waver of disbelief from showing through. Years of dealing with disappointment should have made Esme immune to getting caught up in her emotions. However, that hardly stopped the breath from escaping her body and her stomach lurching when she realized the familiar sting of betrayal singing in the back of her mind. She raced through an index of excuses, but all of them reached the same conclusion that, to some degree, Reyes hid something from her. 

“I’m here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler.” Sloane dismissively huffed and she glanced around to see where the Charlatan was hiding. While she looked away, Esme’s eyes locked with Reyes’ and that single movement acted like a puzzle piece clicking in to reveal the truth hidden before her eyes. Staring down Reyes, Esme realized that the identity of the Charlatan was in front of her the entire time—even though she wished she was wrong about it. 

“They’re one in the same” Esme declared, her eyes never leaving Reyes’ and watching as his posture confirmed her statement. Esme felt her stomach churn and she wanted to keel over with confusion. Reyes was the Charlatan? Esme shut her eyes and forced the urge to tremble to cease, _“How… how did I not see it?” _She wondered as her eyes jolted back open to study Reyes.

“Surprise.” Reyes taunted, more directed toward Sloane than Esme. He caught her bright green eyes, whose fury betrayed the calmness of her expression. Reyes had seen that look on her before when she challenged Zia on his behalf and it reminded him that Esme could change the tide of this whole war should she choose to. When Esme glanced into those amber eyes, she saw past the mask Reyes wore because she knew him better than Sloane did. In him, Esme spotted the fleeting glimpses of guilt and regret directed toward her.

“The angaran spy. Your interest in the Roekaar murders. Everything you’ve done has been to undermine Sloane’s power.” Esme declared, listing all the events that led to this moment. She felt Sloane tense angrily beside her and she could see how Sloane never expected Reyes to be her faceless rival for Kadara’s throne. Now that she unearthed the truth, Sloane thoroughly planned on putting that bastard down herself and making sure that it hurt like hell.

“Death by a thousand cuts,” Reyes confirmed and Esme felt a surge of questions erupt into her mind, her whole world spinning. A small voice in her whispered the question she never wanted to know the answer to: _was everything between her and Reyes all a lie?_ Esme appeared like she tried to question him further, even though her crew and Sloane were watching. Esme tried to stride forward, but Sloane interjected herself into the conversation with a pointed cough. 

“You said you wanted to ‘settle things.’ How?” Sloane inquired coolly, but her clenching fist resting against her thigh told a different story. Cora and Jaal bristled behind Esme and they could sense things were about to take an ugly turn. They glanced at Esme for some direction, but they could see how she was paralyzed to the spot and unable to decide from the way her eyes darted between Sloane and Reyes aggressively edging toward each other. There she stood between two warring sides, foaming at the mouth to end each other for good, and acted as the final barrier between bloodshed.

“A duel. You and me. Winner takes Kadara Port.” Reyes described after leaping off the rock and landing perfectly on his feet. Reyes stared down Sloane as he strolled a couple of paces closer to her. Sloane narrowed her eyes, but anyone could see she was considering the solution as an adequate answer to ridding herself of the Charlatan once and for all. Esme edged forward and she nearly placed herself physically between Reyes and Sloane.

“You want to avoid war by shooting each other?” Esme interrogated disconcertedly and her heartbeat grew louder in her ears. She felt the faint familiarity of adrenaline rushing into her body and her mind raced a million miles while dealing with all her emotions. The numbness of her shock wore off and Esme fully expected hatred toward Reyes for keeping secrets to blossom within her. However, the roaring anger or the bitterness of deception pierced through. Instead, Esme felt palpable fear apprehensively churning around in her stomach and the blood drain from her face—leaving her devoid of color.

“Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other,” Reyes responded evenly and Esme desperately wanted to argue with him, but she bit back her tongue. Her stomach lurched when she realized precisely how serious Reyes was about the duel and she worried that his bravado would end up killing him through a bullet. Their eyes met once more and Esme searched him for some sort of explanation as to why he would be so reckless. Staring back at her was a swirling vortex of pain and hunger for something out of his reach. _To be someone… _Reyes’ words echoed into her mind like a ghost and she closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed. As much as she hated to admit it, Esme understood Reyes’ motivations clearly and she wondered how she ended up falling for someone that she would follow into a coup d’état. Esme was a Pathfinder, which she learned through experience was all about taking risks and the biggest one of her life unfurled before her very eyes.

“I’ll take those terms.” Sloane calculatedly assented and Reyes’ expression hardened into a glare while Sloane squared her shoulders back, readying herself for a fight. Esme felt the pressure of a hand on her shoulder and she glanced at Jaal standing behind her with a sympathetic frown. He could sense Esme’s distress radiating off her in palpable waves and he knew she worried about the smuggler’s life. Sloane pushed past Esme and that kicked off her and Reyes circling around the cave. Esme stood between her companions and the dueling parties, feeling her pulse accelerate. Their hands rested in a somewhat neutral position to make for the most efficient draw. While Sloane appeared as tense as a drawn bowstring, Reyes seemed the opposite and fluid like a rushing rapid. Esme swallowed the lump residing in her throat when Reyes caught her eye once more while he circled around; she prayed that Reyes knew what he was doing. As Reyes strode past a wall of shadow, Esme noticed a faint blip of light that glinted and disappeared within a blink. She nearly shook her head, thinking she imagined it when she heard SAM enter their private channel. 

_“Sniper. His sights are set on Sloane.”_ SAM warned and Esme felt a chill go down her spine when she realized she could determine the fate of Kadara within the next few seconds. She held a choice in her hands: save Sloane and win her begrudging allegiance or side with Reyes’ and eliminate Sloane from the picture. Shoving her feelings to the side, Esme considered the best possible outcome for Kadara, but she knew that deep down that she couldn’t turn her back on Reyes. She needed answers from him, but there was true loyalty to her inside of him, she could see it. Sloane would never truly shove aside her pride to bow to the Initiative, which meant any possible alliance existed on shaky territory. Esme recalled that she described being a Pathfinder was all about taking risks and she decided that she would take a chance on Reyes for the sake of settling Kadara… and their relationship that hung in the balance.

Lifting her eyes from the ground, Esme stared at Reyes and waited for him to glance in her direction enough to catch the faint nod of her head. Through that gesture alone, Reyes knew that Esme was aware of the sniper and she wasn’t going to interfere—which thoroughly shocked him. He reminded himself there was no love lost between Esme and Sloane and that might factor into her decision of who to throw her support behind. She chose him. Reyes kept a straight face to avoid Sloane catching on to the surprise awaiting her. A couple of tense, silent seconds ticked by before the sound of a gunshot reverberated throughout the cave and Esme closed her eyes while she prayed Sloane hadn’t pulled the trigger on Reyes before the sniper could act.

Sloane groaned and grasped her side in shock, pulling it away to see her hands stained in the tell-tale crimson that marked Death’s calling card. The unmistakable sting reverberating throughout her whole body was that of a bullet. She heard the shot go off and yet, there was no gun in Reyes’ hand. She glanced at Esme, also empty-handed, to see an icy cold cruelty flicker in her eyes. Esme’s face remained impassive as she strode up to Reyes and she rested her hand on his shoulder, a gesture of intimacy that Sloane quickly picked up on. Sloane glared at Esme with her dying breaths and Esme appeared mostly unfazed, except for the faint ghost of a smile tugging the corner of her lips upward. So, Ryder knew about the sniper? Perhaps Ryder knew about the Charlatan’s identity all along since she so easily sided with the bastard to overthrow her.

“Bang.” Reyes taunted while he fashioned a finger gun and mimicked pulling the trigger on Sloane. Esme stood beside him and watched his expression, which remained sternly impassive with a practiced detachment. Sloane clawed her hand in the direction of the Charlatan and the double-timing Pathfinder like she planned on crawling over to her gloating enemies and taking them down with her, but the loss of blood proved too great. More fatal than the bullet wound tearing through her side was her hubris, and Sloane knew that proved to be her ironic downfall. Done with Sloane’s theatrics, Reyes faced Esme and she could see a raging war storming through his eyes before their heads snapped back to Sloane’s still body slumped against the floor. His fingers twitched while he started reaching for Esme’s hand but Reyes stopped himself with a sigh. They had much to talk about. He swallowed roughly before turning to his men, those who knew his true identity, and they snapped to attention with glee as they awaited his order.

“Get her out of here. Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight.” Reyes instructed his men and while their attentions were focused elsewhere, Reyes grasped Esme’s hand and nodded toward a secluded path in the distance. Esme nodded and he released her hand, leaving her feeling conflicted. Reyes strolled off toward the path and Esme quickly decided to follow, walking in step beside him. A heavy silence fell between them with a coldness that reminded them of winter back on Earth. They waited until the voices of Reyes’ men and the watchful eyes of Esme’s companions vanished before daring to get closer. Esme’s shoulder kept brushing against Reyes’ arm and their knuckles would bump together on occasion, stroking the urge Reyes had to intertwine his fingers with Esme’s. The only reason he didn’t was the fear that she would reject him off the bat.

“Guess you got everything you wanted.” Esme darkly remarked, and she glanced off to the side, forcing herself to look away from Reyes. God knows how well her resolve would hold underneath those amber eyes that made her feel seen beyond the title of Pathfinder. Esme felt like the fool for missing the clear signs, but she wondered how she wasn’t angrier at Reyes. Above all, she was a conflicting bundle of emotions that she needed to unpack and process. Reyes physically winced when he heard the bitter undertones in Esme’s voice, knowing her well enough to sense there was some hurt over the issue. Esme couldn’t see how her implicit accusation acted like a dagger in his chest. He didn’t want to put her in this position to choose or to find out that he knew more than he let on. Under his breath, he cursed Sloane for dragging her to the duel. Reyes knew that his and her relationship stopped being merely a mutual alliance after the Roekaar and not a minute after. He tried to keep himself in check, but he knew he was a goner the moment Esme squared up with Zia and defended what little honor he had. Reyes knew then that his heart was no longer under his control; Esme held it in her hands. Reyes tried to play it cool from then on, but he couldn’t resist Esme, and thus, the kiss on the roof happened. He always knew that his secrets would catch up to him one day and ruin everything. He didn’t want that day to be today. 

“What I want is peace. Sloane would’ve brought war to Heleus. We don’t have the population to survive that.” Reyes explained defensively, and he needed Esme to understand his motives were not rooted in greed for power or money. His reputation would have painted him as one blinded by material things, but Reyes understood that war would only devastate the growing Milky Way colonies. Similar to how he abandoned the Nexus years before, challenging Sloane as the Charlatan was in self-interest. But this time, a greater good relied on it, the same greater good Esme sought to fight for. As they walked deeper into the isolation, Reyes’ pace quickened and he started moving ahead like he didn’t want to face Esme. She kept behind him with the whole world bearing down on her shoulders and her tongue feeling as heavy as a block of lead. She stopped abruptly and she stammered to get the main question she needed to know off her lips.

“Why didn’t you trust me?” Esme questioned and that struck Reyes into stopping his hurried pace and lurched him into absolute stillness. Esme lingered back while she waited for an answer, appearing pained from the way her eyes studied the man who she cared for and the same man who lied to her through omission. In all honesty, Esme hardly cared that Reyes was the mysterious Charlatan vying for Kadara’s power. As callous as it sounded, she saw his actions as a standard procedure of war and hardly batted her eye at his successful coup. Sloane and he both had their faults, but Reyes desired a better Kadara; Esme saw that in his eyes when they kissed on the rooftop or when they spoke about the poor conditions of those living in the slums. Esme was not blind to the fires of injustice that burned within him at the thought of Sloane’s iron fist over Kadara Port. No, she was disappointed with him not trusting her enough to tell her the truth. In the past, Esme was let down by people icing her out and feeling like an outsider where she shouldn’t. Reyes never made her feel that way, so she thought he was different. Reyes turned around and walked closer to her. 

“I… liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.” Reyes admitted and he turned away from Esme, a small inkling of shame blossoming from his tone. Esme’s heart stopped and she felt speechless. Esme recalled their rooftop conversation a while back and his words replayed in her mind while she wrapped her head around his reasoning. He wanted to be someone… to her. Reyes gained enough courage to turn back and face Esme, who blinked at him. She realized that Reyes was waiting for her to say something—to say anything. Amber met emerald and for a moment, Esme’s whole world stopped spinning. Deep down, Esme knew how she felt about Reyes behind all the hurt and confusion—that hadn’t changed. 

“Nothing’s changed,” Esme remarked out in a shaky breath, which startled Reyes. He secretly braced for her to scream and curse him for his deception. Hell, he even feared that he might find himself on the opposing end of her sword. But telling him nothing changed and that she still wanted him like before shocked him. Reyes started to protest, but Esme gave him a look that stopped him right in his tracks. A small part of him felt unworthy of Esme, but the way she looked at him made him want to be worthy of her. Esme cleared her throat, “I know who you are Reyes, and I… am not going to change how I see you. Everyone has secrets and you are no different.” Esme stated and when Reyes stared into her eyes, he saw she was telling the truth. She bit down on her cheek and realized something her late mother told her. _To forgive is to be strong, Esme… _Reyes closed his eyes and nearly trembled when he felt the gentle press of Esme’s hand against his cheek. He nearly lost her to his keeping of secrets, but she stayed with him and that didn’t go unnoticed by Reyes. His eyes opened once more and he stared at Esme when he realized she removed her hand from him.

“You have bad taste in men,” Reyes remarked huskily and the downright intense look he directed at Esme made all rational thought escape her. Esme wet her lips swiftly and that seemed to intensify the strength of Reyes’ disarming, wicked gaze settled upon her. Esme stepped back as Reyes stepped forward until her back grazed the rocky wall of the cave. Esme gasped as Reyes invaded her space, placed his hand against the wall next to her head, and brazenly capture his lips in hers. The kiss wasn’t hesitant or soft; it was shameless and needy and passionate. It swept Esme’s breath away like a powerful current and dragged her underneath her own attraction until all she could think and breathe was how she needed to be close to Reyes. When Reyes pulled back for the air they both reluctantly needed, Esme leaned in close and brushed her lips against Reyes’ ear. She nearly chuckled at how a small jolt twitched in his shoulders from the movement and Esme purred, making Reyes’ grip on her tighten instinctually.

“The worst,” Esme agreed slyly, a risqué twist to her voice that was a direct reply to Reyes’ actions and sent Reyes over the edge of control. His hips brushed against hers, pinning Esme to the wall with no faltering; Reyes was through holding back with Esme. Esme’s fingers ran through his hair and knotted in his dark locks, giving them a light tug to Reyes’ groan. Her leg lifted up and Reyes easily slung it around his hip, pulling them even closer together to where there was no space between where she ended and he began. In the chill of the cave, their warm breath mingling seemed like an inferno. Reyes dropped his lips down her jawline and along the sensitive skin of her neck, laying a trail of needy kisses until he reached the juncture of her collarbone and neck. In one fell swoop, one of Reyes’ hands pinned Esme’s arms above her head and against the wall by her slender wrists. His other kept Esme’s leg curled around him while his lips worked to leave a map of kisses and some hickeys formed in periods of roughness that Esme liked. Esme moaned faintly when her hips involuntarily jerked and rocked against Reyes’. Oh, Reyes would be the death of her. Esme bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out Reyes’ name for the cave around them to echo. Would she face some backlash from her crew about staying with Reyes? Yes. Did she care enough to stop? No. If anyone at the Nexus demanded she stop seeing Reyes, Esme would channel Alec and remind them that they could go pound sand.

Reyes’ eyes flickered up and noted the pure helplessness written all over Esme’s face and how she teetered along the edge of temptation toying with letting it all go then and there. The way her body moved underneath his grip told Reyes that Esme would bare herself before him and mirrored what he felt in his heart. But if today taught him anything, it was that Esme deserved more and he would strive to provide what she deserved. Reyes ensnared her lips into one last bruising and ravenous kiss before pulling back. Esme’s eyes, which were screwed shut, fluttered back open at the loss of contact and her breathing was labored.

“Meet me at Tartarus in a few days when the smoke has cleared…” Reyes whispered to Esme and his eyes flickered down to meet hers. Reyes could see the glimmer in the bright green that he adored and even though she knows some of the horrible things he’s done, the way she looks at him never changes. Reyes swallowed in relief when he realized that Esme never broke what she promised in that kiss on the rooftop. Esme wordlessly nodded and she pressed her hand against his cheek, brushing her thumb against his skin. Reyes couldn’t hold himself back from pressing his lips back to hers and tumbling down blindly into Esme’s embrace without fear holding him back. Everything was out in the open and Esme accepted him for who he was. Esme moaned when she tuned into Reyes’ wandering hands, mapping out her curves underneath her armor determinedly. His lips against hers were hungry, rough, and Esme swore that she could lose all track of time. However, the enchantment that settled over her when Reyes claimed her lips with his own dissipated when she heard the voices of her companions growing louder. Esme groaned in disappointment, which made Reyes manage a bemused grin. He gave her a look that told her to go, but more importantly, that they would see each other again soon. Esme wrapped her arms around him and pressed a final, parting kiss to the corner of his mouth before she darted away to intercept Cora and Jaal, missing how Reyes watched her go with a smile working onto his face. 


End file.
